


Sometimes fangs cut deeper than blades

by TheGreenDane



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rhaegar Won, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Madness, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Resentment, Rhaegar is his own warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23300566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenDane/pseuds/TheGreenDane
Summary: When Robert said that Rhaegar kidnapped and r*ped Lyanna he didn´t lie. Neither did ser Barristan when he claimed Rhaegar loves his second wife.A crackfic in which Rhaegar is crazy as a loon, kidnaps Lyanna and kind of wins the Robert´s rebellion, but Lyanna lives and she is FURIOUS no one managed to kill her delusional husband. So she teams up with a certain leech and does it herself.
Relationships: Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen
Comments: 45
Kudos: 104





	1. Lyanna I

Lyanna I

It was a beautiful day outside. Golden rays of sunshine cascading down upon the Red mountains gave the ruddy stones surrounding the tower almost an ethereal glow. It was the golden hour, right before the sunset and even if Dorne wasn’t her homeland, this time of the day it was almost equal to the snow cowered North in beauty. Almost. Nothing could compare to her homeland, as long as she was surrounded by her captors. If she strained her ears, she could hear an occasional bird chirping outside, but those innocent songs would be replaced by the sounds of men training and sparring down under the tower.

She hated them. Officially they were here to protect her from harm, but that was just a pretty way of saying they were supposed to make sure she doesn’t kill herself before Rhaegar gets his third head of the dragon. Not that they were wrong in that suspicion. When they first dragged her here, she tried jumping out of the window, drown herself in the bathtub, hang herself on a scarf and break her neck by falling down the stairs. Each attempt only got her more restriction. When she tried throwing herself out the window, they boarded the window shut. When she tried drowning herself, they took away the tub and made her was herself with a bucked full of water. When she almost hanged herself they took away all the things that were made from a lot of fabric. Including most of her clothes. She was now only wearing shifts and men’s tunics. And when she tried throwing herself down the stairs, they confined her to the rooms. Her days were now consisting of her pacing around her cell (or bedchamber, depending on who you ask) like a rabid dog, eating the game ser Gerold caught and wishing they would all drop dead.

Thankfully she was at least pregnant now, so her wifely duties were lifted off of her shoulders. Rhaegar would not bed her in her current condition, for fear of hurting the babe, so she was at least spared that. Before though, oh she was miserable. The first few times she tried to fight, scratch out his eyes, do whatever to get him to stop dishonouring her so, but after a few weeks she gave up, for it would be done quicker if she just lied there and wept. And so she wept and wept while he claimed her body and hoped Robert would win his rebellion and beat Rhaeger to death one day.

Those days were over now. Now she wished she would be the one to kill the Silver Prince. Lyanna did actually try a few times, to stab him through the neck or eye when he was sleeping, but he always woke up before she had the chance. So she was just waiting and pacing around like a mad beast.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door of her cell. “Princess, his grace is asking for you to come down under the tower, if you promise to not try and jump down the stairs again, that is.” Wylla, her handmaiden and the only other woman in the tower stood by the entrance to the chamber, pity in her eyes. “I promise nothing”, said Lyanna, returning her gaze back to the slim patch of view she had from her prison. It was truly beautiful outside today, and she longed to feel the sunshine on her face after so many weeks, but she would not give him the satisfaction of listening to his commands like those idiots that stood by her door every night, listening to her cries as her husband raped her. They thought themselves to be great knights, valiant and full of honour, but what kind of an honourable man kidnaps a girl of sixteen from her men at arms and drags her before a Weirwood tree to be married against her will?

“Very well M´lady, I shall inform the Prince you decided to stay in your quarters.” Sighed Wylla and left her in the chamber alone. Her “husband” was an enigma to her. During the tourney he seemed kind and quiet, perhaps a little melancholic, but generally good. He kind of reminded her of Ned in a way. Then all the hell broke loose when he gave her that wretched flower crown and humiliated not only her but her house and his own wife. Rhaegar claimed he did it to honour her as the Knight of the Laughing tree, but could he note choose a little less catastrophic way? She had no idea he even knew about her until he stopped by the Stark pavilion on the days, and threw the damn thing in her lap. The whole world stopped smiling then, including her. Her family and herself left for the North in a hurry and all seemed to get well, until it was time to go south again for Brandon’s wedding. They came upon her somewhere between Darry and Harrenhall, ambushed her and dragged her to the isle of faces, for that was the only place south of the Neck that had heart trees and wasn’t a castle. Her husband believed she had gone willingly even if she fought and screamed. That was the strangest thing really. Was he mad, delusional, insanely stupid or a wild combination of all three? She hoped he would go and join the Loyalist forces soon, so that he would get killed in the heat of the battle. Then perhaps she would be free to go. She would not get rid of the lizard spawn growing within her, for she was past her third month, and it would not do her well. Neither would be giving birth at seventeen, but that had a higher chance of success than losing the child at sixteen.

“My love, stop brooding by that window and look at me, I have something dire to tell you.” Her “beloved husband” was walking towards her through the bedchamber, dressed in riding leathers as if he was finally leaving to get killed by Robert. It warmed her heart. She did not love him, but at least he wasn’t a delusional monster, and was actually trying to save her from her current nightmare of a life. If him following her around on the tourney like a puppy wasn’t a sign of devotion, then this certainly was.

“What is it?” she murmured, still not averting her eyes from the boards that covered her only window. She would sooner burn than wait on him like a good little wife.

“I must leave you my love” He was now behind her, brushing his lips against her earlobe. It disgusted her. Lyanna´s whole body screamed her to punch him, to claw and bite and growl until he was just a bloody corpse at her feet. But they watched her like hawks, the Kingsguard standing at the door, and she knew they would drag her off of him the second she did anything. So she didn’t. She will bid her time and have her revenge another day.

“How unfortunate” She said with no warmth in her voice.

She didn’t even need to lift her eyes to know he frowned, she could feel it from his breath. “Will you not wish me good luck in the battles to come?” he asked her, still delicately kissing her ear. She wanted to scream. But that would get her more restrictions by the fucksguard, so she just gently said:” No.”

“How funny you are my dearest wolf; I will miss your jests when I defend the realm from that power-hungry swine that you were betrothed to.” He finally stopped kissing her, and the terror she felt within her chest loosened. Still, she felt like a caged animal. “I can´t wait for this war to be over, for you to finally stand by my side as I lift the Seven kingdoms from the hole my father buried them in. Everything will be better, you will see. The three heads of the dragon will bring the realm great prosperity and everyone will sing praises of the dragon king and his two queens.” He sounded so sure of himself, he truly believed that everyone will love him for kidnaping a bethrohed maid of sixteen and plunging the kingdoms into war.

She just hoped Brandon and Ned will save her soon. Ned and father are very smart, surely they will devise all sorts of plans to win battles and save her from the mad dragon. And Brandon is a fierce warrior, if not for Robert, it would be him leading the rebellion to save her. She was so sure they will win any battle against the royal forces, that they will make everything right. Even Robert.

Lyanna was so lost in her thoughts about her family and betrothed, she didn’t even register that her husband was no longer standing behind her, and was instead walking out of the chamber with one of the Kingsguard behind him. And truly she didn’t care for his goodbyes anyways, so she instead watched the sun slowly set, praying for the rebels to win.


	2. Lyanna II

She felt sunshine on her face again. Wylla, the only person who was at least a little on her side convinced one of the Fucksguards, the Dayne that always frowned, that she would not be able to run away in her current state, and so they let her out. Hightower grumbled of course, if it was his choice, Lyanna would be chained to the bed since she tried to jump down the stairs, but since walking is good for the baby, at least that´s what Wylla told them, he relented. 

Baby. It still felt so strange to think about. She was not sure how she felt about having a child. On one side, she always wanted a younger sister that she could run around and pull pranks with, and a baby isn’t that far off from that, right? Or was she supposed to be all stern and ladylike just as her Lady Mother was? But on the other, the only reason she was with a child was that a certain mad shit abducted her and forced the baby into her. She hated that it existed. No matter how she felt about Robert, Lyanna already got used to the fact that she will one day bear his children. Even if she ranted and raved about the whores, and his arrogance, he would be still so much better as a husband then the dragon shit. She wanted family, she really did. Two boys and three girls, so that they could all play together. Even if she didn’t want to be a brood mare for this or that lord, she always wanted children. Babes with her eyes and Roberts hair, and his eyes and her hair. And they would all be good people. That was the part that mattered to Lyanna more now than ever. But the shit and his Fucksguard came and stole what little good thoughts about her life as the lady of Storm´s End she had. She hated them, hated him and hated it. 

Still, she prayed for the baby to be healthy and look like her, Or her brothers. That would be the best way to get back at the shit before she took his life. He always went on and on about how blood of the old Valyria was strong and that dragons would rise again from salt and smoke. Mayhaps if the baby wasn’t silver and purple but brown and grey, he would be so cross with her she would be let go. He was so certain it will be a girl as well. Lyanna thought to herself as she watched a big bird fly over her head. Maybe if I had a boy it would break him. I could name him Rickard, give him a very northern name. Or perhaps Bathogan, after the legendary Barth Blacksword. Oh would he instead demand that she strip off again like his first poor wife and put another and another babe into her until he’s satisfied with the result? To force a babe after babe into her and destroy her health until he has the Visenya he wants?

Lyanna could not stop thinking about the Sun princess ever since they dragged her to Dorne. What would she think of her? The princess Elia. When they met at the tourney, she seemed so sweet albeit a little sad, even as they shared a joke over some wine while Ned, red faced and shy, danced with lady Ashara. Did she know her husband was pining after a maid of fifteen? No, she wouldn’t have, she looked so cross with her husband for dishonouring her so. Would she believe me if I told her I didn’t want to go? Or would she blindly trust her husband like most southern wives? She wanted to know more about the Dornish princess, to know more about the woman that involuntarily became her sister wife, but the only source would be the Fucksguard, and she refused to utter even a word that was not an insult in their general direction for as long as she lived. 

Once more, Wylla interrupted her thoughts by bringing her a pitcher of water. It seemed to be a trend these past few days. Since Rhaegar left, she had rarely left Lyanna´s side, constantly fussing over her like a mother hen, even if she was just a little older, perhaps by a few years. She even argued with the white cunts over her wellbeing on more than one occasion, and even if she was technically one of her captors, Lyanna was still very grateful to the woman.  
Come to think of it, she did not come with them to the tower, so there was a chance she was Dornish and may have met the Sun princess. 

“Wylla, where are you from?” Lyanna turned her head to the older woman, who was still standing beside her with the brown pitcher in her hands. She definitely looked Dornish, with her black hair and dark eyes. 

“We call it the Goatstones, Your grace.” Wylla looked at her with kindness. “A small village standing near a bridge halfway between High Hermitage and Starfall. But I haven’t been there in years.” 

“Where have you been in the meantime?” Asked Lyanna in curiosity. “Did you get work in a castle?”

“I did Your grace, at Starfall. First as a laundry maid, then as a chambermaid to lady Allyria and a midwife to the castle women.” She said, while still looking at her with that kind motherly look on her face. It reminded Lyanna of her own mother. 

“Have you ever met Princess Elia?” She asked, while lowering herself onto a blanket that she spread on the ground earlier. One of the white shits offered to bring her a chair to sit on, but Lyanna would not grace him with an answer. 

“I did your grace, from a respectable distance of course. She mainly spent time with lady Ashara, and I with lady Allyria, when I was needed in her chambers. Might I sit next to you, Your grace?”

“Of course you can.” She said as she scooted over to the right, making place for Wylla to sit on. She was close to her fifth month now, and her belly started to make her less graceful than she would like.  
“Thank you.” Smiled Wylla “Why do you ask thought?” 

“I-…I wish to know how is she. Of course, I met her at the tourney, but people are quite different when they are in front of the whole realm and when they are amongst their friends.” Sadness overtook her once again, as she traced a line or her dress. “I would know” She added with melancholy in her voice. 

Wylla put a protective hand on her shoulder and with a reassurance in her voice said “You wish to know if she will blame you for her husband’s actions, do you not?” To which Lyanna could only nod, for she feared her voice would betray her right now.

“She seemed very kind and loving, your grace. Full of smiles and sunlight and I do not think she would blame you for what has happened.” She said. Wylla sounded so confident in her words, truly believing that the princess would not hold her husband’s crimes against her. But Lyanna had to wonder if years in Kings Landing had broken the sweet and kind side of the Dornish Princess. 

´Maybe I am overthinking this, oh how I wish I could hop on Frost and ride and feel the wind in my hair again. I’ve been stuck in that dreadful room for months. ´ She was now standing up from the blanket and walking towards the fucksguard. ´Just one sentence, Lyanna, one and then you can go back to silence´. She still did not talk with the kingsguard that Rhaegar left in the tower to guard her. A maiden in a tower guarded by a dragon, that’s what she was. Except she was not a maiden anymore and the dragon was to blame for that. 

“I wish to go on a ride sers.” She was gritting her teeth to keep herself from snarling. The three guards were sitting on stones that were scattered around the tower, and silently watching her every move until she walked to them.  
“No” Hightower stood up and looked annoyed. “The orders were clear, your grace. You are not to ride until two weeks after the princess is delivered.” 

Lyanna stormed off back to the tower, getting a troubled look from Wylla in the proocess, for she feared that she might hit the old knight of she stayed. It was clear that her wellbeing was not important to them from the first day she was in their company, the only thing that mattered to them was her womb and what their prince put there, but to deny her even a calm and short ride was absolutely ridiculous. They knew she would not survive in Dorne only in her dress and with no weapons, but they still insisted on keeping her locked up, so that her precious cargo would not be misplaced.  
She felt like she was just a womb with legs to them, not a person. They made her eat foods she hated that were supposedly good for the baby, never mind they made her sick. They made her not move too much, again for the baby’s benefit, not hers. What was stupid however, is that they did not provide a maester for her. There was no one to examine her if something went wrong, no one to treat her morning sicknesses and swollen ankles. Lyanna believed that if something went wrong during the birth, they would simply cut it out of her and leave her to die in a bed of blood. She knew of course why there was no maester. They were sworn to answer to the lord of the keep and as an involuntary princess it made her the highest ranking person here. If she ordered him to send a raven to her family telling them where she was, he would have to oblige. They wanted her to be cut off, so that Royal forces would have an upper hand in the Rebellion. After all, Sormlands were just round the corner and if only once castle sent 20 men to get her, the kingsguard would be screwed and she would be free.

Lyanna seethed in her anger. She would survive this, she knew she would. She had to so that she could get her revenge on the Silver prince. If she had to play the long game she would. One day, when the snows fall and the white winds blow, winter will come for Rhaegar Targaryen, and she will bathe in his blood.


	3. Eddard I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Battle of the Bells, Ned reflects on his family and gets his life turned upside down.

The losses of the Bells were fortunately smaller than he expected. When they reached the town barely half of the royal army was outside the walls, and almost no one has expected them so soon. They broke through the wall of men in red and black the same way a knife would cut through a well-cooked slice of lamb. Or perhaps butter. After the fighting had begun outside of the city, the bronze bells of the sept started ringing to alert the small folk to stay in their homes, which did give Connington and his forces inside the city some time to prepare, but as they left most of their heavy, steel armour in their camp outside the city walls, and most were donned in only boiled leather and some maybe in chainmail, it was a swift battle. It really serves well to be prepared.

Men fought on the rooftops by the time Ned got into the city. He was taught by his late lord father to never wait out a battle with the reserves, but to fight alongside with your fellow soldiers, cause if they can lay their lives at your feet, you can lay down yours at their feet as well. It was a bloody battle for sure, but most dead were from the royalist forces. There were casualties at their side as well though, some more painful than others. Lord Arryn´s nephew ser Denys fought bravely, but was slain by Jon Connington near a fountain at the city centre. Ned knew the man well from his stay in the Vale, and his death has brought him much sorrow. They were not as close as they are with Robert, as Denys was six years Ned´s senior, but his death had hurt nonetheless. Lord Arryn and Lord Tully have been wounded as well, though only lightly and would both definitely survive if the wounds were taken care of well.

Who most worried Ned however, was Robert himself. The man had been wounded during the battle of the Ashford, and while he had been treated by a maester in the town, aster his stunt of running out of a brothel yelling and killing everyone in his sight, his wounds reopened and got infected. Everyone worried for Robert.

Eddard kept walking through the camp. They have been on the move for the past few days, trying to reach Riverrun. There, he would marry his late brothers betrothed, Lady Catelyn, to uphold his promise he made during the negotiations for Riverlands to join the rebellion. Roberts tent was getting closer and closer. The black and yellow fabric stood out against the grey of the common soldiers. Ned was worried what he would find on the inside. His greatest friend has gotten feverish from his wounds a few days past, and Ned was fearing for his life. What would they do if he succumbed to his wounds? They had good generals, but Robert was the face of the rebellion and the most charismatic one of them all. He inspired people to fight for them. To fight for justice. Eddard didn’t know what would happen if he passed.

When he entered the tent, his nose got assaulted by the stench of sweat and blood. His best friend, brother in all but name was lying upon a cot with a wet towel over his forehead, probably to lower the fever. His foster father was sitting beside him, looking concerned.

“ _How is he_?” Ned asked as he dragged another chair next to the makeshift bed.

“ _Worse._ ” Replied Lord Jon, looking at his older ward with fatherly love and fear in his eyes. “ _He hasn’t woken up since yesterday._ “

“ _And the fever_?” Ned could see why Lord Jon was so worried. Robert was pale and shivering badly.

“ _Very high, the maester is very worried Ned, says he may not recover from this._ ” Said Jon with tremble in his voice. “ _He´s been vomiting out all the broth they’ve been feeding him; even just water makes him too ill._ _I don’t know how to help him and its breaking my heart. You two are my sons even if you aren’t mine in blood. Our Robbie that never feared anything and was full of laughter and energy may die._ ”

At that Ned got up and hugged his foster father. Lord Jon loved them both as his own and now he was sick with worry over one of his sons. 

Ned could not believe that Robert might actually die from his wounds. He was always the stronger one, always the one to brave an oncoming storm with a smile. No, he would not die. He could not, he was too stubborn for that. If there was one thing that Ned knew about his foster brother, it was that he had a skull as thick as a mule. Far thicker than Brandon or even Lyanna.

He let go of Jon Arryn and started to walk towards the entrance to the tent.

“ _I´m going to ask the maester if there is something more he can do to help him survive this, and then pray to the gods that Robert lives. Will you stay here with him?_ ” he held the flap of the tent now, almost stepping outside, as he waited for his foster father to speak.

“ _Aye, I´ll watch over him, make sure he holds down at least a little bit of that broth._ ” And with that assurance from lord Arryn Ned exited the tent in search of the maester.

Eddard didn’t keep the new gods. He prayed at the heart tree just like his father and their forefathers had done for millennia. He preferred it over the Seven as well. The old gods didn’t have so many rules to follow and sins to commit. The only things they asked were that men didn’t kill their guests and their family. He didn’t really know much more about the seven apart from that they had their many rules. He didn’t know which god did what apart from the basics. Eddard didn’t know if the Mother or the Crone protected and healed the ill.

And so that night after praying at a stump of a heart tree on the High Heart, he lit a candle for them both.

\------------------------------------------------

Robert was dead.

He had died in the early hours of the morning, with Ned and lord Jon by his side. The maester had called it the poisoning of the blood, which happens when a wound releases toxin into the veins and into the heart. Ned now had one more brother to grieve for.

They have given the body to the silent sisters that travelled with the army to tend to the dead, so that the flesh could be boiled away and the bones returned to his brothers in the Stormlands. That gave lord Estermont an idea though, as it was a well-known fact that his nephews Stannis and Renly were besieged in their own home by the Reach lords, who feasted daily right under the starving castles windows. Before the funeral was to happen, he approached Lords Tully, Arryn and himself about how they could sneak in food for the castle.

“ _My lords, I believe I may have a way for prolonging the survival of Roberts brothers until we can lift the siege of Storm´s End and save them._ ” He said as he was sitting down at the table of the war council.

“ _What do you propose my lord?_ ” Asked Lord Tully.

“ _When we send the silent sisters with the bones, we could put them in a coffin in a burial cart, that has a false bottom. We can fill the secret compartment with flour and smoked meat and other foods that will last and smuggle the food into the castle that way. The silent sisters cannot speak, lest they break their wows, so the army besieging the castle would have no way of knowing that there is food in the cart_.” Ned could see the logic in that. It would buy the young boys and the people of the castle precious time they will need to hold out the siege, for a few months possibly, if the cart can be filled well. But there was one flaw that Ned was worried about.

“ _What if they decide to search the cart?_ ” he asked.

Lord Estermont, an ancient man and the grandfather of Robert, Stannis and Renly through lady Cassana looked like he was about to answer, but his soon to be father-in-law was faster.

“ _I highly doubt that Eddard, the reachmen are various things, but they would never desecrate the bones of a lord, especially if those bones are being escorted by the Wives of the Stranger. No one would look upon the eyes of death and destroy someone´s bones._ “

“ _And what about the Sisters themselves, will they be allowed the leave the castle without being harassed by the Tyrell army?_ ” Ned hoped that they would, as the sisters were just servants to their god, and would not deserve to be hurt for their servitude.

“ _Yes, I´m sure they would be left to leave without any harm._ ” Said Lord Estermont. Erlon, his name was, or at least so Eddard thought.

“ _Alright then, if it can help Robert´s brothers then you have my aye._ ” Sighed Ned, and hoped they would be successful with their plan.

“ _Aye._ ” Said Lord Tully.

“ _Aye._ ” His foster father nodded.

“ _Very well then my lords, I shall begin the preparations right after the funeral of my grandson and informing the Silent Sisters of this plan._ ” Said lord Estermont.

With that, the men stood up and slowly made their way to the funeral of their Grandson, foster son, foster brother and friend.

Eddard knew he would have to make a speech to the men, to lift their spirits after the death of their leader. As he gave a tearful last goodbye to his brother, he thought on how many people they have lost. Not just Robert but Rickard, Brandon, Elbert, Denys and possibly Lyanna as well. His little sister that he held when she was scared as a little girl is being held somewhere and abused by the Crown prince, or may even have joined their father and brother already.

He knew he had to take the reins Robert left behind, for if the rebellion lacked a leader then they would all soon split apart and be put to the sword. Even though Ned was never as bright and adored as Brandon or Robert, he would do his best to lead so they could get justice and go home alive.

As the soldiers, both common footsoldiers and highborn knight stood side by side in the centre of the camp, the air was filled with mourning and uncertainty. Ned stood up on a wooden crate so that more people could see him, and started speaking.

“ _My brothers! We have lost a great man today. Lord Robert Baratheon was taken from us by the wounds given to him during the battle of Ashford. I know you are likely worried, scared even, of what will happen to Robert´s rebellion since we no longer have Robert among us. We must remember, we were not fighting to put Robert on the throne, we were not fighting to win some glorious contest. We are fighting for justice! Whole families have been burned alive by the Mad King, while his son and heir is abducting and raping innocent maidens. Stannis and Renly Baratheon are being starved out of their own castle by the reachmen, who are too scared to face grown men in an open field._

 _This is who we fight for! We fight for justice and our safety and our freedom! We fight so that our families are no longer being threatened by whoever sits upon the Iron Throne!_ ”

He was about to start speaking again, when lord Bolton, of all people rose up and shouted: “Here is what I think of those Targaryens! King Aerys is a mad monster and so is his son! Why should they rule over me and mine while they burn the world to the ground? We should be ruled by a man worthy of the title King! It was the dragons we bowed to, and now the dragons are all dead.”

As Ned stood there shocked by the words of his least trustworthy ally, who had been known to never shout or raise his voice at all for that matter, lord Umber walked in front of the men and pointed at him: “ _There stands the only man I want to call a king. Let´s be done with mad dragons and crown one of our own! King Eddard!_ ”

“ _King Eddard!”_

 _“King Eddard!_ ”

“ _KING EDDARD!”_

  
_“KING EDDARD!!”_

And the only word Ned could think at that moment was “Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god what have I done. 
> 
> On more serious note, sorry this chapter took so long, I had to read up on some medieval battle tactics.  
> And research Septic shock. 
> 
> What are your thoughts on this chapter? Let me know <3


	4. Eddard II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyyy, ya boi is back at it again.
> 
> Sorry for such a long hiatus, but the whole Corona stuff happened, and I´m an essential worker, so I did not have much time to do any thing that did not involve a hazmat suit (the fancy yellow kind)
> 
> Anyways, now I have more time, so let´s hope I can upload more frequently.

As his men screamed his name, the wheels in his head were turning with a rapid pace, panicking and trying to figure out what to do at the same time. He knew that his men were stubborn, proud hardy people of the North, which was never truly a part of the Seven kingdoms like the Reach or River lands.  
Speaking of which, Ned knew not what to think. There were some lords which were cheering along his own, as well as some Valemen, but not with the same enthusiasm as his own bannermen. He had to speak with his allies, to figure out what to do about his newfound (and unwanted) royalness. If that was even a word.  
'Riverlands might be relatively easy to keep allied' he supposed. After all, he was to marry his late brother's betrothed, the dutiful lady Catelyn. He did not know if that was enough though, as Rivermen were famously quick tempered and prone to internal conflict. He'll speak on it with lord Hoster when all this commotion calms down.  
The Vale would not turn to the Targaryens either, of that Ned was sure, since along with his beloved father and brother the Mad King had burned Lord Jon's heir Elbert. Maybe he could tie them closer together with a marriage too, but he'll worry about that later.

What he did not know was what would happen with Stormlands. Lord Stannis was still trapped inside of Storm's end and with Robert dead, he was the one who would have to make all the important decisions. Lords Estermont, Swann and Tarth could act in his stead until he was freed, but he was not so sure all of them would work in the young Lord's best interest.  
He just hoped that the food their grandfather planned to smuggle them would be enough and it was not too late to save his best friend's brothers.  
As the shouts died down, Eddard felt much more confident in himself. He was never the one to be great out of his siblings, that mostly fell to Bran and sometimes Lya. He was the grey, quiet second son prone to melancholy and reading, not the wild wolf or the dazzling she wolf. He knew that he had to learn how to inspire men, and fast. The fact that he still had his tongue after that horrible mess of a speech had to account for something at least, and he would learn how to be a king, if that was what his people wanted him to be.  
Preferably before he had to another speech.

He held up his hand, and to his surprise, the men actually quieted down. Even Greatjon Umber stopped thundering.  
"My lords, I am greatly affected by your faith in me and hope I can me the king you deserve. But there is an issue I would like to discuss with the top commanders before I truly accept any crown. If all the officers of the four kingdoms presents could join me in the commander tent..." he was looking around for all the people he had in mind.  
He needed to speak with the Riverlords, Stormlords and Valemen about their alliance. It would do them no good to work together if they weren't clear on what would happen when they won... If they won. Even though he was almost completely sure none would wish to follow Rhaegar, or even worse Aerys after the war, such things had it be cleared up before one marched.  
And so the Andals and the First men moved inside the tent to discuss their roles to play. It took a few minutes for everyone to get in and find their seats, since there were a lot of people present (they even managed to drag lord Hoster out of his sickbed, Ned knew he would never hear the end of it).

For the newly reformed Kingdom of the North there was himself, as well as lords Umber, Mormont, Karstark, Bolton, Dustin and Manderly, as well as his, friend Lord Howland Reed.  
For his foster Father's kingdom there were the Arryn, and his, bannermen lords Royce, Redfort, Templeton, Waynwood and Corbray, of which none look at Ned with murder in their eyes, which was definitely a positive sign.  
His future father in law brought his lords Whent, Mallister, Blackwood and Bracken (who sat on the complete opposite of riverlands side of the table, Ned noted).  
Lord Baratheon was obviously absent, so in his place sat his, grandfather lord Estermont, with his fellow lords Swann, Tarth, Penrose, Wylde and Dondarrion.

Trying to not let his nervousness show, he spoke: "My lords, I'm sure by this point you have all heard that my men decided to pronounce me their king. We are here now to discuss what happens now. Some of you have expressed their desire for me to be the king of the seven kingdoms as well, but I would rather not do any decisions without the full support of everyone involved.  
He looked around the room and saw his foster Father speak up: "I'm sure I'm speaking for the vast majority of Valemen when I say I do not wish to follow Targaryens as we did in the past. The Vale has followed the Iron throne since Ronnel knelt and they have repaid us with plagues and dead heirs."  
Lord Jon looked around at his lords, who in turn gave him the looks of approval or small aye's"  
Ned shifted in his chair: "I would not ask you to follow the North instead, unless you are all in agreement. But I would still prefer if each 100 years’ lords of the Vale wished to remain united with the North or not. As a sign of a good faith between our kingdoms."

Bronze Yohn spoke up next:" That would be more than the Targaryens have given us for the last 300 years. I like this arrangement." He was looking at his liege with calm, stoic expression his father used when Benjen would rattle his ears off about joining the Night's watch. It made the sight almost painful.  
Lord Corbray scratched his chin: „We could always separate if we wished to have our own kingdom too. I say yes."  
The only lord that needed to think for more than a few heartbeats was the lord Templeton, who also agreed that he liked the idea. In the end, the lords of the Vale decided that they would join with the North.

The Riverlords were even more drawn to the idea of joining North as one kingdom. As lord Hoster put it, the Valyrian pricks had slighted their kingdom when Jaeherys had jilted his aunt Celia to marry his own younger sister instead, the second time when Rhaegar crowned Lyanna and made lord Whent’s tourney into a farce and the third time when Aerys had his daughter´s betrothed strangled while watching his own father roasted alive. Three times is enough. All Ned had to do is to agree to marry Catelyn (which he planned to do anyways) and to not get himself killed before being a proper and good husband. And to make her happy.

After drafting out the agreements between the three kingdoms, Ned turned to his Stormlord allies: „My apologies for leaving you to be the last, but I´m sure you understand the peculiar situation regarding your own liege, my lords."

Lord Gunthor, grandfather of Robert, Stannis and Renly smirked:" it is truly peculiar indeed. I cannot promise anything though. Stannis has a mind as readable as a sky heavy with rain."  
Ned looked at him with sombre face: "Yes, it would be better to wait for lord Baratheon to decide what is best for his people himself. He is, after all, just a year younger than myself, and if I can command a kingdom, so can he." Obviously pleased with the answer, Lord Selwyn of Tarth spoke: „Well spoken, King Eddard. But until then, we should have a treaty anyways, as temporary as it may be, no one could claim we are not united in our goals."  
"Which goals?" Ser Eram Penrose, a man in his sixties, yet still fierce as a man half his age spoke up.   
He was known to be pedantic to the point of annoying everyone around him, or so Robert told him a few years ago in the Gates. That night they stole away from the castle while the lords held a meeting, snuck into a tavern and got quite drunk. Robert got into a fight about a serving girl he and another man liked, and Ned himself got hit over the head with a wine bottle for his trouble. From what Robert told him, he dragged him out of the tavern, threw him over his own horse and let the horse (called Stormshaker, he is still in the camp, alive and well.) gallop all the way to the Gates of the moon while he returned to the tavern to finish the fight.  
Lords of the Vale apparently found Robert in the tavern under a broken table with his breeches around is knees, sleeping the headache off next to the man he fought with in the first place.  
"Justice for our murdered relatives, freedom from the Iron Throne in the case of the North, Riverlands and the Vale, and right now our lives." Maege Mormont shot an annoyed glance his way. She was the sister of Jeor Mormont, who was currently sitting right next to her, their bearskins making them both look as big as actual bears. Lord Penrose nodded and spoke no more.

After drafting out the last treaty all the men (and women, all of them from the North) exited the tent. They would march to Riverrun so that Ned can marry his brother´s betrothed, and lord Jon her sister and then march towards the trident to meet Rhaegar on the open field. Their scouts, and the few spies told them that he has returned from somewhere south and joined his father´s army along with the Dornish. Ned supposed that his sister was somewhere in Dorne because of that, or southern Stromlands or the Reach. Dorne made the most sense to him, because of how fast he made it back with their 10000 men. Although he did not know if the prince was stupid enough to hide his sister in the country of his own wife. The wife that he dishonoured time and time again.  
Ned supposed that it would be an interesting thing, were it true.


	5. Jaime I

It was one of those days again.

The hand of the king, lord Chelsted tried to reason with their mad king and ended up dead. Apparently Aerys has had the pyromancers create massive stash of wildfire and hide it under every major street, building and wall of the city, in case Robert wins his rebellion.  
The king laughed when he told his hand that if the Usurper wished to be a king, he would be a king of ashes and charred bones.  
His hand, still hoping that Aerys could be reasoned with tried to convince the king to get rid of the wildfire and spare the people and when he refused and laughed some more, lord Chelsted tore off his pin and tossed it to Aerys' feet in disgust. He had resigned from his role in disgust and anger, and the anger Aerys showed him was tenfold.

He had the poor man strapped over an iron frame in the centre of the Throne room and covered only his legs with wildfire. The hand had screamed for hours while his legs burned. Aerys had laughed and laughed while sitting on his throne, and only granted his former hand "mercy" when he wanted to go and "spend time" with his sister-wife.

Jaime had been horrified for the poor Queen. She had held herself with regality and poise while her mad husband burned men alive for fun, and did not weep or cry when he dragged her to his bedchamber. He could not do that. Jaime was a knight, aye, but he had nowhere near the strenght the queen had, to hold her composure while seeing what her brother was doing to people.  
Her mask came off while they were alone however. Her screams and cries of pain were hear all thorugh the Red keep, and the king was getting more and more violent each day. Rhaella had word gowns with high nect and long sleeves but sometimes Jaime would get a peek at her while she changed or after the king did his husbandly duties and left her there, usually passed out. The queens skin was covered in bruises and mark so deep, they matched her bloodshot eyes perfectly.  
Deep purple. Almost as if the gods wanted to show the irony of Targaryen beauty on her skin. 

The Queen screams got higher and louder, and Jaime's blood boiled. His brother at arms, ser Jonthor Darry must have noticed the expression on his face, and shot him a warning look.  
Jaime squeezed the hilt of his sword so hard, his knuckles must have turned white under the gloves.  
He could not take it anymore: "The kingsguard was meant to protect the queen as well. We cannot let him do this."

The eyes of his brother looked sad, but he only shook his head: "Not from him."

Jaime has had enough. The king was cruel and mad and hurting his queen and the knights did nothing. He whispered: "had you not taken your oath ser? To protect the weak and defenseless in the name of the Mother and all women in the name of the Maiden?"

"Aye, but to protect the king is imperative. We took an oath." It seemed that Jaime was wearing down Jonthor, for even he seemed like he didn't belive those words.

"You were a knight before you were a kingsguard." Said Jaime.

Ser Jonthor sighed while the queen screamed. "You are right. Do whatever you wish, I will not stop you, for Aerys has died in Duskendale. But I will not lie or cover for you, ser Jaime."

The queen stopped screaming, probably because Aerys made her faint again. Bastard.

Few minutes after, the king emerged from his chambers seemingly in a good mood. He smelled of blood and pain. He had told them the queen was resting and that she be not disturbed, but Jaime knew the second the king left her maids would be there to clean her wounds and offer what little comfort they could.  
They had moved from the Kings chambers and down the hall, towards the staircase. Jaime noticed the kings ugly and tangled beard had dragged behind him. It would be easy, so easy to just step on it while the king was going down the stairs. 

Jaime looked to the side and eyed his brother at arms. He noticed too, and looked at him warily. He obviously did not like what Jaime wanted to do, but he had much more faith in Rhaegar than this monster.  
As the king made the first step down, rambling to himself, Jaime lightly stepped on his beard.

That little tug was all it took for the king to tumble down the stairs. Jaime looked at his companion and they slowly made their way down. As the kings yelps and groans stopped, they reached the base of the stairs and found the Mad king sprawled on the ground like a headless chicken, his own head twisted unnaturally to the back. 

Aerys, the second of his name, the Mad king of the Andals and Rhoynar and the First men had broken his neck. 

Jaime called for the maester. One of the maids that were in the hallways ran to bring him, and Pycelle came with all the haste an elderly maester with a heavy chain could muster. He had examined the king and found no pulse.  
With fake sorrow he pronounced: "The king had died. Long live the king!"

__________________________

It had been days since the king died. 

They have sent riders to Rhaegar and recieved a reply in return, that the new king will mourn his beloved father. He had also written that he shall attempt to negotiate with the new rebel leader Eddard Stark, who was apparently pronounced a king by his men. And as he was the brother of his second wife, he wished to come to a compromise.

Rhaegar's first wife faked a smile when they read the letter aloud, but Jaime knew she was as furious as her mother in law. They had both did their duty, even if it cost them much and more. To see their husband and son throw everything, including their safety for a pretty girl was rage inducing.  
They had of course heard the rumors that the Stark girl had ran away willingly, but they did not want to belive it until they read it written by Rhaegar's own hand. 

When they were alone in the Queen's solar, the dowager Queen spoke: "So stupid. They have both dragged men, good men to their deaths because of some fleeting romance. I can't believe it."

Elia nodded: "You had not wanted to marry the late king, did you?"

The shadow of a bruise on the Queen's lip had been healing well, as well as all the other bruises and marks and cuts on her body. Jaime saw them much better now, for the dowager queen had started wearing more revealing clothes to show the court what they have failed to protect her from.  
She took a cup of tea she had put a cube of sugar in and sipped gently: "Of course not. He was not outwardly cruel when we were children, but he was smug and ther was no love between us. Still I did my duty and married his, I did not run off with the man I loved like Lyanna Stark."

"I wonder how she will act when Rhaegar graces us with her presence. She seemed like a good girl at the Tourney. She even went to my tent and pleaded my forgivness for getting crowned a Queen of love and beauty." Elia sighed.

Jaime was there when the Stark girl visited his new Queen. She had brough the wreath of roses to the tent and kneeled before the princess while asking for forgivness of the Dornish princess. To think that she would just run off with the prince not even a year later...

"That certainly adds more to her integrity, but I will see for myself how this northern girl acts, daughter." Rhaella said. Jaime had not blamed her. She had been married to a man that rivaled Maegor the cruel and held out.

"Ever the wise Queen." smiled Elia. "I shall go and see Rhaenys and Aegon now, care to come along? Vissy said he would be with them in the nursery too."

The queen dowager smiled sadly. "I shall tell him about his father today. I had tried to shelter him from his, cruelty, but I cannot any longer. I shall go."

And so the women, both queens, finished their teas and went out in search of their children. Jaime still pondered why would the Stark girl plead forgivness for the scandal only to run off with Rhaegar and cause a bigger one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seemed reasonable that the royal women would only know what Rhaegar told them, so in my story they don't know she did not go willingly.
> 
> Next up we'll probably go to Storm's end. Or Riverrun. Haven't decided yet. 
> 
> Toodles my dudes


	6. Stannis I

Robert had asked him to hold their home in his name when he first left to go to war for his future wife. They were not exactly the closest of brothers, for even thought they were only two years apart, they had such different personalities it was almost impossible to relate to ane another. Where Robert had been loud and bright, there Stannis was silent and dull. 

Still, he was his older brother, and Stannis would do what he told him to do. It was hard in times like these, but Stannis and his men were strong. Stronger than the Fat Oaf of Highgardern, who was currently feasting under their castle. The cowardly lord of the Reach was too scared of facing his brother on open field, even if his army gave him his only loss of a battle, so he opted to lay siege to Storm's End instead. 

They had surrounded the castle a few moons ago and waited. Storm's End was well stocked with food, but months without supply carts took a great toll on them, and their storage was almost empty now. They had a few bags of wheat and root vegetables left, but all the meat, eggs, milk and fruit was long gone. 

The inhabitants of the castle had resorted to eating things they would not eat if standard food was avilable. Through the meals of dog, horses, boiled leather, and now the dead rats they could catch he continued to hold Storm’s End, with said wheat being made into hard bread to eat with the rats.

They burned the bodies because very few people had the strength or energy to dig proper graves in the lichfield, and Stannis suspected that if the bodies were kept too long that some of the more desperate might turn to eating their dead. Each time they had to burn a body, Stannis tried to smother the joy he had felt at having one less mouth to feed. It was a horrible way to think of people, but in the end it was the truth, and the smell of burning flesh no longer bothered Stannis.

What troubled him the most was Renly. His four years old brother started a habit of standing at the window of their late father's solar and looking on as the Reachmen feasted. Stannis had the unfortunate duty of dragging his brother away from the window every day, and explaining to him why telling servants what the Reachmen were eating was a bad idea.  
During a siege the morale was the only thing that kept them all going, and he could not allow his baby brother ruin that, even if the little boy did not understand why he was doing more harm than good. Stannis had cut his own portions many times, so that his brother had remained healthy, even to the point of passing out from hunger sometimes. He would not take more rations for himself. No. When the castle suffers, the lord should suffer with the people. 

A voice of a serving girl, Marion, he remembered, dragged him out of his thoughts.

"Milord, the Tyrell officer outside the walls asks for an audience. Over at the front gate of the keep. He promises that it is not a trick, but a matter of faith."

'What would he wish to discuss with me, the Seven pointed Star? " Stannis asked himself sardonically, but still, he made his way to the front gate. Slowly, so that he would not exhaust himself and faint, letting the reachmen know that everyone inside the castle would not fight off a kitten in their state. 

The rose banners made him want to vomit, if he had anything to vomit in his stomach at all. Cravens. Dishonest cravens, all of them. 

The redhead lord with pointy ears spoke up first.  
"Young lord Stannis, our lord Tyrell had employed me to give you news. Your traitor brother had fallen in battle, leaving you the lord of Stormlands."

The rage that Stannis felt in that moment was worthy of his Durrandon ancestors. This weasel had come, to his walls to boast about how their mad overlords had slaughtered his brother, without any shame or reverence for the dead. He frowned:" Did you come to leer at our pain, Reachlord? Have you no respect?"

The man had sneered: "Not for traitors, no. But lord Tyrell apparently does, for when five silent sisters came dragging a cart wrapped with Baratheon banner he allowed them to pass thorugh our blockade to deliver the body to you. Expect him later today, Traitor"  
He turned on his horse and rode back to the camp, leaving Stannis to another terrible duty, telling the people and his brother that Robert had fallen.  
He had all of the people not attending to their duties come to the second courtyard to share the terrible news. Not Renly though. He would tell his brother in private.

"People of Storm's End, the Reachmen that are starving us came to give us terrible news today. Robert had fallen in battle, trying to free us from the dragon's tyranny. But fear not, because we still have the Stormlords doing their best to save us. My grandfather will not let us die here, I promise you that.  
And so even though the supplies are short and we are tired, today we will all get double our rations. To both commemorate my brother, Our lord and to boost our spirit while waiting for help that is coming our way."

He knew that they would run out of food sooner if everyone got more, but it was necessary to lift the spirit of the Storm men and women, if they were to stand a chance at all. And so, he had gritted his teeth at the waste and let his people have more for one day.

Fortunately, his men had taken well to the gesture, some even shedding tears, who knew if they were for Robert or for themselves. Stannis did not know either. 

\--------------------

He had put off telling Renly for hours. He wanted his little brother to enjoy what little childhood he could have. But he knew that he could not hold it forever, and so about the midday time he had come to the nursery to tell his brother the news. Renly had been getting a little too old to stay in a nursery for a while now, but Stannis did not have the heart to drag him out of there during a siege.

When he entered the bright room, he felt a pull around his waist, as if someone had tied a rope around him. It turned out it had been his little brother, hugging him while grinning.

"Stannis! Stannis I drew us! Maester Crezz- no! Cressen gave me some of his coloured pencils to draw. Come look." The little boy dragged him over to the small desk at the centre of the room, and excitedly pointed at blobs of brown and black.

"Look this is you! You are sitting on a horse while I and Robert spar in the yard! Look!" The blobs did not look like either of them, maybe like, misshapen vegetables if he squinted hard enough, but he did not say, that, out loud. The least he needed was his brother crying even before he told him their brother was dead.

" Speaking of Robert, Renly I have to tell you something. We got news of the war and it is not good. Robert got hurt during a battle and went to mama and papa in the sky." He remembered what him and Robert told Renly of their parents. He had been barely a toddler at the time, not understanding death yet, and so they made up a story about how people go to the sky to be with Elenei and their ancestors amd could not come back, but could watch over them all. All to spare his feelings.

The little boy had worry in his bluish green eyes. Out of all of the Baratheon brothers, he had been the only one to look a little like their mother, with Robert and Stannis having the blue eyes of their father and all three of them having the black Baratheon hair.

"What do you mean in the sky? How will he save us if he is with mama, papa and Elenei?"

"He won't be able to come, Renly. He will only watch over us now, just like our parents. Grandpa will come and save us. And our cousins from Greenstone will play with you, in the godswood." He had been holding his sniffling brother for a minute now, but after those words escaped his mouth the clouds broke and Renly wept into his doublet just like the sky weeps into the earth almost every day. 

He kept whispering sweet nothings into his brothers ears for what felt like an eternity, and even shed a few tears himself. He knew he could not afford to do so in front of his people, he had to be hard and unyealding like the castle itself, but with the only remaining family member he had, he could not hold them in. They were truly almost alone in the world.  
The only family they had were grandfather and his family, for all their father's relations had died, along with their parents or even before them.  
They were the last of their line now, and Stannis hoped that it would not be so forever.

When his brother calmed down, Stannis made his way to his Father's solar, and peered out the window.  
He could just about make out his banner draped over the cart that the reachlord with a fox sigil talked about, and knew he had to make his way down to the gate yet again. Renly had begged to come too, so they could see their brother off together.  
They would place the bones into their father's empty tomb in the caverns below the castle. Every Durrandon and Baratheon had a place in the caverns, with a hole carved into the white stone where the bones would be placed. Many a man had opted to wall in the bones with rocks but no mortar, so that the cold sea wind could get to them even after their death. It became a common practice after Argella's time for the family to wall in the bones themselves, and carve the name into the stone.

Stannis did not know if he had, enough strenght to carve his brother's name, due to his starved state, but him and Renly would place the stones themselves, even if they were both weak.

By the time they reached the courtyard the sisters were already at the gate. The men had been just as weary as Stannis to open it, but the Reachmen had promised on their honor (if they had any), they would not attack.

Five rather plump looking women dragged a large cart covered with a yellow banner in, and with no horse to do the work, most men had to help them along. 

The gate had been closed as soon as it could, with the sisters still in. Four of them looked rather expectantly at the one closest to him, who walked in first. Their leader apparently.

The sister walked to him and his brother, or rather hobbled. Stannis was just about to go through with the formalities of thanking them for their job when the woman lifted her arm and placed it on her veil, approximately where her mouth was, as if gesturing to be silent.  
The woman had the eyes of his mother. As green as the waters around Greenstone, sea green that lets sailors know they are in safe and shallow waters. It gave him chills. She handed him a little folded paper.  
When Stannis read what was written on it, he got even more confused than he got by the sister shushing him.  
"Noone dares to look upon the eyes of the Silent Sisters and question them." 

What was that meant to mean? Why was this woman chastising him for looking at her eyes? How would she know that beforehand? His look of confusion must have been very obvious, because the woman huffed and the skin around her eyes shifted up, as if she was smiling under her veil. Then all of a sudden all the sisters reached into their layered hoods and several sacks of something tumbled out of their gowns. They were not fat, Stannis realized, they were smuggling us something. He hoped it was food, a lot of it. 

He was about to look into the sack nearest to him, but the Silent Sister with his mothers eyes grabbed his bony hand, and gently led him and his brother to the cart. As the whispers of "food" filled the air around him, the woman touched the lid of the cart, and with one last look turned around and walked to the gate, waiting to be let out of the castle alongside her gray clad sisters. 

"Why was that Silent lady showing us the cart?" Asked his brother. 

Stannis didn't answer. He instead lifted the banner off the cart. To his surprise, there was the casket, but it was not lying in hay to be shielded from bumpy roads, but instead it was lying on wood. 

Noone dares to look upon the face of death and question it's wives. Sudden realization hit Stannis like a bag of bricks. This cart was smuggling them something as well. He shouted at his men: "Take my brother's coffin down to the caverns." 

When they lifted the coffin off the wooden frame, they found a whole second compartment in the cart, filled with sacks of flour, potatoes, raddishes and onions. There were bags of salted meat and fish, some eggs, apples and even hard cheese. He had his very joyful men take the food to be stored and take some of it to the kitchens to prepare the double rations he promised the inhabitants of the castle few hours earlier. There was a single letter with an Estermont turtle seal in the cart, obviously meant for him. 

After giving his brother some dried fruit from the cart, and taking a handful for himself, they returned to the solar to read it. His grandfather's handwriting greeted him upon breaking the seal. 

"My dearest grandsons. It pains me to say that Robert's wounds were fatal, and he had died surrounded by his cousins and friends. Lord Eddard has been named the King by the Northmen, and the whole army is working towards freeing you. There is enough food to last you at least a few months more, pray that we win. Much love, Grandfather" 

He had known his grandfather was a sly man, but to fill a funeral cart with food to smuggle into a besieged castle was an incredible feat. Renly had been jumping up and down (for about a minute before he got exhausted) from joy, and through the whole evening meal he rambled about how he knew grandfather did not forgive about them and how Robert was watching over them from the sky and sending them food with Silent ladies.

The whole castle wept from joy and sorrow both that night.


	7. Eddard III

It was raining yet again. The heavy dark clouds hung around them like curtains of a tent, pouring down rain for days now. Some murmured that the gods are sending their signs, and that the marriage the army was heading to was cursed. Ned and his closest of course did not believe it, most likely it was just early spring rains that the Riverlands were known for. The rivers had to come from somewhere after all.  
Lord Hoster was all but overjoyed to marry his eldest to a king, one known for being much less reckless that his older brother. Ned did not like his eagerness, but he supposed that there is no higher honour than to have your daughter be a queen, no higher honour that is attainable that is. It was strange to think about. His men have declared him a king. The Riverlords and Valemen have accepted him as their king. Him. A second son with almost no charisma, a dull slimmer version of his brother. There was a reason he rarely spoke, growing up with a loud older sibling usually does that to you. You are quiet so you can observe and learn from their mistakes. 

Ned also did not know that to think about his bride to be. They have met only once, at that wretched tourney. She seemed nice enough, if a little too religious. She was taken with his brother, following him around while staring like a puppy. It was good that she liked him, for marriages should be about love too. He did not know in what state he will find his betrothed. He had just lost a brother, a good man albeit with flaws. She had lost a betrothed she had not seen yet with all of his faults. His rages and wildness and seducing ladies. He had controlled himself around her during tourney, as a proper man should. Ned was just afraid she would compare him to an idea of a shining sun, and then be disappointed with a gently glowing moon. 

Ned wondered whether or not she knew about his brother´s bastards. Bran had come to him during the tourney and told him of the daughter he had sired on a serving girl of Winterfell. Arrana he had named her, after a distant aunt who had fought the Ironborn alongside her Mormont husband and lived to be a famous swordswoman. He wondered how his wife to be would react to a niece named after a warrior woman. She was two years old now, and running on her small legs after Benjen whenever he would move. They had agreed to let her be raised in Winterfell alongside Brandon´s other daughter and son, both base-born, because they were wolves and wolves live in a pack, whether or not they are white or gray. The other two babes had been in Winterfell when Ned arrived to call the banners after the Mad King had murdered his family, two little grey eyed babes. Their mother had been a noblewoman, not Bethany Ryswell surprisingly, that had died of Childbed fever a few months prior. Their maternal family did not wish to raise them, and so the duty passed on Ned and Ben. They had not been named by their mother, or her family, and so Ben did the deed. Lynara for the girl and Edwyn for the boy.  
Ned had found them both adorable, all three of them actually, wild and loud and happy. He knew that he would have to breach the subject to his betrothed, for they would not send them away to be raised by strangers. Arrana was already bonded to Benjen beyond repair, and she would suffer if they were to be separated. At least for the next ten or so years.  
The existence of Arrana had an interesting effect on Benjen however. He had been born a third son, with not much to do, and wanted to join the Night´s watch ever since he could speak, even when Mother was still alive.  
Ned and particularly Lyanna did not want him to go, but he was dead set on Joining when he came of age. Then Bran´s daughter started toddling around, and mostly after him, and caught his heart with such tight hold he would not even hear about Night´s Watch any longer. So close was he with his bastard niece. 

The red walls of Riverrun were finally peeking from behind a hill. The castle was about three leagues from the head of the column, and they would reach the castle in an hour or two. The high ranking officers and lords would be staying inside the castle for the wedding, with the troops staying outside the moat on the western side of the river. Just in case Rhaegar goes back on his word and moves his armies towards Riverrun they would be separated by a river. Lord Tully was not worried much about Westerlands, for Tywin Lannister would not move towards them without being spotted well before even entering Riverlands, and the Old Lion seemed to be waiting out the rebellion anyway.  
If Ned were to be honest, he was rather worried about the whole marriage affair. Not just because his bride to be was supposed to be his brother´s wife before him, but also because he felt wholly incompetent in that area. He had only lain with one woman as of yet.

\------------  
They had crossed the drawbridge sometime around noon. The waters of Red fork were rolling lazily along the walls of the castle, even if the sky was to dump an entire sea worth of water on their heads, the river would still stay calm, or so Lord Hoster said. The troops were garrisoned at the western side as was decided, although even if they wanted to station them on the eastern side, they could not because the land was low and Tumblestone poured out on the fields overnight.  
A flash of red in the courtyard drew him out of his thoughts. Two girls and one boy stood next to the Blackfish. Well, not girls, young women. Lady Lysa looked almost ready to cry, her watery blue eyes cast towards Lord Arryn. A gown of sky blue with dark blue pattern with bell sleeves hung around her, making her look almost like Alyssa´s tears back in Vale. He had understood her sadness. No young woman would want to marry a man old enough to be her father. But he also knew that lord Arryn would treat her well and never hurt her. A lovless marriage perhaps, but one that could be built on mutual respect and friendship.  
Lady Catelyn stood next to her, a darker gown around her. She looked well, if maybe a little pale. Ned was glad she was not in deep grief, or at least she did not seem so. He had hoped she would be healing from her own loss. He did not wish to remind her of the ghost of her brother.  
As he got off his horse and thanked him for his hard work everyone in the courtyard kneeled in greeting. Ned was still not used to being kneeled to, it made him incredibly uncomfortable, but he knew he would have to get used to it before they would treat with Rhaegar, so that the Last Dragon would not sense any weakness. He approached the inhabitants of the castle and greeted everyone in the proper order.  
Him and the lords were showed their rooms and quarters in the castle, his were in the family wing, and given a few hours of respite before a meeting in the great hall. His rooms were spacious and airy, with furniture made out of dark wood and carved with motiefs of fish. He found it a little too flamboyant, but pretty nontheless. The walls were hung with blue tapestries showing scenes from Riverlandish history, like the first men learning how to fish, children playing in the rivers and castles being built He had made a mental note to write to Benjen to decorate the Lady´s chambers in a simmilar way, with tapestries or pretty furniture. He supposed that his wife to be would like to have her rooms decorated simmilarly to remind her of home. 

A knock on the door of the solar startled him so much he almost jumped. Since the war started he begun to not like unexpected sounds, the sress was getting to him more than he wished to admit.  
"Enter!" he called out as he poured him a cup of water. To his surprise, his bethrohed came from behind the door, looking more than a little nervous. She had the same look in her eyes as Benjen did when father found out he snuck a live goose into Lyanna´s bedchamber to scare her one summer morning.  
Ned smiled:"I suppose you did not sneak into here to release a goose to bite me, My lady?" 

She squinted at him as if he was a confusing book and asked:"Excuse me, your grace?" 

He sat down on a bench in the centre of the solar:" It´s a prank my brother played on my sister. He snuck a goose into her room. You have the same expression as Ben did when he got caught. Would you like water my Lady?" 

She only shook her head and looked even more scared:"I-...I came to confess your Grace. I have shamed you already." 

Now it was Ned´s turn to be confused. He asked:"How come my Lady? And we are to be married, Ned is alright in private." 

She sat on a chair opposite to him, gripping her hands and hanging her head:"Me and Bran...We did things. We were to be married and so we were more comfortable with one another. I-I swear on the Maiden that I am still a maid. Just... not as pure and a maid should be." 

Relief washed over Ned in an instand. He was worried there was something worse going on, an illness or a death in the family. To be completly fair, he did not care much if she even was a maid. As long as the childen she would bear would be his. He smiled calmly:"I thank you for telling me my Lady. It took a lot of courage to confess. To be honest I do not mind that much. As you said yourself, you were to be married. You are not pregnant are you?"

Shock came up on her face:"No! I swear we never lain together! I beg you to believe me." She looked as ashamed as a murderer should be for his crimes. 

"I do believe you. But I have to ask. Did Brandon ever tell you about the women he lain with?" He knew it was an uncomfortable question to ask, but he had to breach the subject of the children somehow. A dark part of himself was glad she told him and was ashamed of it. He would have a leverage aginst her and would be able to keep the babes in Winterfell and raising them alongside their trueborn cousins.

"I know that he was popular with the ladies, if that´s what you ask Ned." his heart warmed at her words. He was glad she would call him by his family name, mayhaps they would be able to become friends. "And if I can call you Ned, you can call me Cat." 

"Alright Cat. I am asking because he already has three baseborn children back in Winterfell. A two years old Arrana who is already trailing after Benjen like a duckling, and twins three or so months of age named Lynara and Edwyn. " He shifted on his seat a little uncomfortably. Gods he was too young to deal with this. 

"Oh. Well I hope you will be able to find them a good home to be raised in. One of your bannermen perhaps." She was oblivious to some northern traditions, it would seem. She would have to learn if she were to be respected as a queen by the Northmen. 

"You misunderstand Cat. In the North we rarely, if ever, send bastards to be raised by strangers. House Stark raises their white wolves alongside their trueborn family, just like a wolf pack does with theirs." He could see the discomfort this brought her. It was definitely hard to come to terms with the fact your beloved had children with other women, not even thinking about having them grow up with their trueborn family like equals. Especially when you were raised in a place where bastards were deemed as product of sin, lesser than some smallfolk to the eyes of the nobles. 

"But what if they don´t learn their place and wish to usurp their trueborn siblings? The Seven pointed star says bastards are inherently sinful and often greedy. Just look at the Blackfyre rebellions Ned." She frowned a little, more scandalized than angry perhaps. 

"Well, we have never had a rebellion caused by a bastard before. When you raise them together, they love each other and no one with ulterior motives can poison their hearts against their family. In the 8 thousand years’ house Stark has ruled there were only rebellions caused by our cadet branches, and usually Boltons." Ned sighed and took a sip of his water. "I can actually think of more Stark bastards being regents for their trueborn siblings or nephews and nieces, and then willingly stepping down when they come of age than I can think of rebellious bastards." 

"Is that so Ned?" She raised her eyebrows in interest. His betrothed seemed more curious than scandalized now, even positive. It seemed like it never crossed her mind to question what her septons were teaching her. He was glad to share some history of the North though. If she was willing to listen. 

"Well, king Benjen the Bitter ruled five centuries before the conquest and died fighting the Wildlings near Last Hearth in the far north. His bastard sister, Asma the White Death took arms and defeated them near Nightfort. She then ruled in place of Benjen’s young son, also Benjen for fifteen years before he came of age. She then was his advisor until her death. 

Their rule is also known as a prosperous and peaceful era for the North, with many castles being rebuilt and trade established between the North and Valyrian Freehold." He had loved the story as a child, particularly the part about how she got her moniker. He spoke some more: "Her mother had been a woods witch according to some, and Asma had been born with hair as white as snow. She did not however get the name until she wrapped herself in a white cloak and hid in a snow mound to kill a rebellious lord with her arrows. The story is told around the ending of winter usually, when the snows are deep enough to hide a person whether or not they had white hair." he chuckled. "They said she took down seven guards and one Ryswell without anyone knowing where the arrows came from. The remaining Ryswells then surrendered because they feared that it was the North itself that was shooting at them."

"That....that is a rather fierce woman. Do all women in the North know how to shoot arrows?" Catelyn asked. No trace of anger or fear was present in her face. Just pure captivation at a story about a warrior woman she was never told about in the South. 

"Most know how to wield weapons just as any man does. My own mother would practice with a sword with one hand while holding me or my siblings in the other. Said that we were a good counterbalance as babes." He smiled fondly. 

"Are there any other Snows that took care of their trueborn families?" she asked with interest.

Ned could think of many. Torrhen Snow that gave his own life to save his trueborn brother and sister during an Ironborn raid. Rodrik Snow that ruled in place of his little brother Eyron II. Norra the Blue who raised her trueborn cousins Rodwell, Brandon and Artos when their king father died. 

He spent hours telling his wife to be stories about Starks and Snows of old. Nut just Brandon the Builder but bastards and second sons and daughters who picked up swords to protect their families during the time of need. 

One story in particular stuck with Catelyn more than other though. Talarra Stark had lived three thousand years ago, quite some time after the Andals came, but when the North was still roamed by direwolves and mammoths and the Children and Giants still lived in the forests. Some had lived in the North after the Pack and many had fled from the South when Andals invaded. 

The tale goes that she was famed for her dark hair, which was so long she dragged it after herself when it was not piled atop her head. One night she sleepwalking out of Winterfell because the moon was calling out to her, when a giant appeared, wrapped her in his blue cloak and took her high into the mountains so that she would be his wife. He had boasted that he had slain fifteen maidens on the mountain because they were not pretty or strong enough for him.  
Talarra kept herself calm and fearless however, and started to sing him a song about three Northmen caught in a storm north of the Wall. Her singing was so beautiful and calming that the giant Brunn was lulled to sleep.  
Then she had unbound her long braids and wrapped his hands and feet with her hair, because she could not find a rope to tie him up with. 

Talarra then said to him: "Wake up Brunn, get up quickly, for I do not want to kill you in your sleep."  
The confused giant woke up just as she plunged his own sword into his heart. And with the words of "You will lie here on the black mud for dogs and crows, while I shall keep my maiden´s name" she cut off her hair that bound his hands and feet and rode back to Winterfell on his mammoth. 

Catelyn was rather disturbed by the concept of.... well, almost the whole story really, but she liked the idea of maidens defending themselves from their kidnapers. It is questionable whether or not the story went as it was said in truth, but it was a nice Northern story regardless. 

Ned had promised her to tell her the story of Bael the Bard after they come back from the meeting in the great hall too. And so they went to the hall arm in arm that day. (And not just because Ned would have gotten lost otherwise)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of Arrana the White Death was inspired by the story of Simo Hayhä, a Finnish WW2 soldier who sniped Russian invaders during winter. Im a huge history nerd and so the fact that there is almost no lore about the Starks from before the conquest but after the Andals kinda pisses me off haha.  
> I wanted to add a few stories and lore in general about the kings of winter.  
> The story of Talarra and the gian Brunn has been inspired by the song Brun by Garmarna.  
> the band has a lot of medieval ballads of which the stories fit well into the GOT universe, so look out for more legends and stories looking oddly simmilar like folk pop songs. 😉 
> 
> Also, the bastards I pulled completly out of my ass, although its not completly unreasonable. This stories Catelyn will be less of an evil stepmother though.
> 
> \- Green


	8. Lyanna III

Fever took her.  
The air was dry and warm in the room, yet she felt as if she was doused in warm steam from every side. The heavy air was hard to breathe, hard to force down her nose and into her lungs.  
This was all a fault of the guards too. After she had asked them to let her ride a few weeks ago, Whent and Hightower specifically decided it was time to enter her confinment and completly sealed her chamber from the outside world. The windows were now fully boarded up, the holes in the roof and floor patched, and heavy tapestries hung along every wall.  
It was suffocating.  
In the North women did not go into confinment like the southern ladies. They would hunt, ride, fish and exercise as much as they wanted, albeit with less intensity. But here in the south, they forced women into locked chambers so that the draft does not harm the babe, all the while the mother is sweating and suffocating.

It was no surprise Lyanna fell ill. She had been reching up her meals for the past week. Then a few days ago she had started feeling dizzy and faint. Then she started to heat up. As it stood, she was lied upon her bed and Wylla was wiping her sweaty brow. Or at least Lyanna thought it had been Wylla, for her fever was so high she drifted in and out of consciousness for the last two days.  
Lya was also completly sure that she heard Dayne say to just cut the princess out of the whore and be done with it. She was sure it was not her feverish mind making up horrors. 

A shout interrupted her thoughts. Some woman was screaming at someone about a thing she could not hear. Such peculiar noise. High pitched and loud, yet to Lyanna it felt as a distant dream.  
A stream of bunnies jumped over her wall. Little furry creatures with long ears hopping around the tapestries the three keepers brought to her. But why were they green? Bunnies aren't green. 

Lyanna did not like the strange creatures, yet they proved a good source of entertainment. They hopped around and tumbled over each other in a fun little game. She wanted to see if their meat was green too. She would hunt them, yes she would. She lifted her arms, but to her surprise no bow was there to greet her. Instead of a bow and arrow were two sticks, about a wrist thick and covered with dark, almost black bark. She wanted to touch it and examine it. Maester Mikken taught her how to identity trees after all.  
But to her surprise, the branches moved as she moved her arm. She tried to flex her fingers, but to her astonishment the small twigs at the end of the branches moved instead. Were her arms the branches? She looked up to the ceiling but all she could see was blue. 

A fish swam past her and she tried to catch it with her new branch-hands, but no, instead of branches there were pillars like they had in the crypts, holding up the cieling from collapsing. It looked strange.

She could hear mumbling and singing but she could not make out what they were saying. There were fish now everywhere, of all shapes and sizes.  
A slim red fish with dark wings and lion's tail flew past her. Or swam?  
Behind her a white fish with red eyes and fiery tail.  
Three little pink fishes swam around her ankles, the water behind them red.

Suddenly the scenery changed.  
She stood atop a tall structure made out of sandstone, and under her many smaller ones. Pyramids, that's what the Maester would call them. The one she stood upon was a light sandy colour, but the small one at the base of her pyramid was bright purple. She had never seen such a bright colour. Then there was a big yellow one with blue swirls on it. And a green one in the distance. She wanted to touch it, but instead of hands she now had golden wings.  
Lyanna decided she wished to see the strange buildings up close and so she decided to flap her wings. It took some time to lift herself off the ground, because her legs were glued to the base of the building she stood on. She flapped with all her might, and finally managed to lift herself up to the sky.  
Many strange birds joined her in her flight. Geese with horns and golden wings like hers flocked behind her in a V shape, obviously wanting her to lead the way.  
She flew south of the great pyramid and towards the green one, but now a big ironwood door stood in it's place.

Lyanna walked into a familiar room. The walls were of dark stone and had tapestries of wolves hanging off of them. She walked closer to the one on her left. It had a depiction of a battle weaved on it, but she could not recognise it. The castle on the tapestry was Winterfell, that was for sure, with it's tall walls and pale green roofs. One side of the battle had X shaped wooden frames scattered around, and to them nailed people. It was a horrifying sight. The other side had a big red eyed wolf, ridden by a man with dark hair and a beard. A Stark probably, no other living man would dare to ride a wolf like a horse.  
There was a giant holding a tree trunk by his side, and a red haired warrior on his other, but unlike most of the soldiers he was covered in furs and not armor. A peculiar sight.  
She had never heard of such a battle, where giants fought alongside Starks in front of Winterfell. There were other battles of course, but not near her home.

She looked at other tapestry in the room. On it a red haired woman sat on her father's chair. She looked like her brother's intended, Lady Catelyn. But she could not be the woman on the tapestry, for Lady Cat would never wear armor, or a crown for that matter.

A familiar voice called out to her. "Red is the impostor"  
She turned around to see her dear Ned seated behind a table, with Cat and four boys she did not recognise.  
"What?" she asked

"Red is the impostor" he said again, and his face melted.

Lyanna blinked and she saw herself in the mirror. She did not recognise the room she was in, but it was nicely furnished and warm, so she did not complain. She looked herself up and down.  
Her dark hair was covered with a strange colorful shawl tied under her chin. When she turned her head she could see it had a patter of flowers on green. It did not look like any House's sigil, merely a decoration. She saw some smallfolk wear something simmilar in northern Riverlands while she and her family travelled to Harennhall, but theirs were more of a wimple and not with a pattern.  
She wore a plain white shift with puffy sleeves, with what looked like a top of a sleeveless kirtle laced on her chest, with more of that flowery embroidery decorating the front. A separate skirt, dark blue and densely pleated hung around her and down to her ankles.

Lyanna walked out of the room and into the yard of the house. Around her were golden fields of wheat, gently rolling as far as she could see. The sky was a clear blue, with no clouds, not even tiny ones. She looked to the left and saw a pen full of peculiar creatures.  
They had the body of a silvery fish, as long as her forearm, not a trout, but she did not know what kind fish they might be. Brown chicken's wings rested at each side of the creature, and it walked on chicken's legs too.  
She wanted to get a better look at them, to see what kind of a fish it was, and so she walked into the pen and tried to catch the closest one. 

The chickenfish ran off with the speed she did not think was possible, which made Lyanna even more determined. She ran after another one, and this time she managed to grab it and lift it up. The creature flapped it's wings in fear and clucked.

\-----------------  
Wylla

The wolf girl had been lying in the sickroom for over a week now, with no sign of improvement. She had fallen unconscious yesterday's noon and did not wake up since.  
Wylla was worried.  
Her worries had not been lessened by the knights left here by the Prince. She heard young Arthur whisper that maybe they could just cut her open to save the babe and let her die to save themselves some trouble. She did not let them off after that. The words of the dishonorable knight were despicable and Wylla would not stand for it. To be truthful to herself she did not recognise the knight anymore.  
When she worked at Starfall he had been full of laughter and honour, wanting to be worthy of the ancestral weapon of the Daynes, but ever since he dragged her here to care for the captive lady he acted like a monster. Speaking of the poor girl with such hate she could not understand how this man was the good young Arthur she watched grow up.  
Wylla was no simpleton, she knew why he hated the girl so. It was easier to cast the blame on the victim of the situation rather than on his friend. The Prince had dragged the Stark girl here against her will and forced upon herself each day until she was far too along for him to want her.  
Ser Arthur though had believed what he wanted to belive, that his prince was not a rapist, but instead had fallen prey to the vile seductress that took him away from his rightful bride. 

She knew that if Lyanna did not get help she would die. The knights would gladly let her die too, for they did not hold her high in their regard, even if their liege claimed to be wedded to the girl. She had tasked the girls that were here too, to wash the laundry and cook and clean with protecting the Wolf Lady.  
Wylla walked down the main stairs of the tower. The three knights were sitting in the shade of a tree, in their full armor, but no doubt resting. Mustering all her strenght, she spoke up.  
"The Princess had not woken and her fever has worsened. We need to get her a maester now, or she will die."

The frown on the Bulls face told her all she needed before he even spoke. "His Grace's commands were clear, Wylla. No maesters shall attend to the Princess."

Anger risen up in her chest and she knew she could not give up. "His grace shall be more cross when his wife dies of a fever and his daughter of being premature than he shall be with you for disobedience, sers." these men were willing to let an innocent girl die just so they could serve their mad dragon like dogs. It disgusted her.

"We cannot leave our post, we swore a wow." Whent said.

"Then I shall go and bring one myself. Kingsgrave is only half's day ride away, and there is a town adjoining, sized good enough to have a few masters of their own. I know how to ride and I ride well." her voice showed no emotion now, for she feared if she looked afraid they would not let her go. Lyanna's life depended on it.

Whent frowned "Is it trully that necessary? Surely she, can beat a fever."

"It is, I am a midwife not a healer and I lack the medicine necessary. The princesses will both die without a medical professional." she was losing her patience by the minute now, trying to break down the old goat's reasoning.

Finally, the White Bull relented."Very well. Take two horses and ride for the town then. But should you betray the Prince I will kill you myself."

'Oh that's exactly what I plan to do, cunt.' she thought to herself as she saddled her horse and rode for Kingsgrave.  
A single raven for the rebel forces would be enough. Last she heard Storm's End was being besieged by the Reacher forces, and any castle in Riverlands was too risky. Thus, she decided to send, her message to Winterfell. It would take much longer for the message to reach her brother, but it was safer than sending it anywhere else. 

\--------

She had made it to Kingstown well before sundown. It was not the best choice to travel around Dorne during the day, but considering how grave the situation was, it was, necessary.  
Wylla was happy that the three morons had let her go on her own, actually she had hoped for it, so she could do her business in peace.  
From a friendly town guard she had found out that there were five maesters here. The one with the largest rookery was named Cylas and the best in the art of healing was Ronnel.  
Just to be safe, she decided to not have both things done by the same man, after all, he could just rat it out to the knights if he wasn't careful. 

With the help of Cylas she sent a small letter to Winterfell. She did not let him see what she had written, so he could not tip her out either. 

" She is being held in the northern mouth of prince's pass, in a tower named tower of joy. Whent, Hightower and Dayne guard her. Heavily pregnant and not willing.  
\- midwife"

Convincing maester Ronnel to come with her was much harder than she thought, not even because he did not wish to help, but because of whom she was being held there by. The whole Dorne had heard of the Princes betrayal of Princess Elia, and everyone from the deepest pits of sand to the tallest mountains was enraged. A Valeman by birth, but a Dornishman by heart, he did not wish to help a Targaryen.  
What finally convinced him was the fact that Lyanna was not willing, but instead kidnapped and held captive by men who wished to cut her open when she became inconvenient to them. 

After she set up on the journy back to the tower with a maester in tow, Wylla wondered how was Lya doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have fun figuring out what was a prophecy/metaphor for future events and what was absolute horseshit. 
> 
> Also the weird chicken fish happened in my dream and it was too weird to not put it in. 
> 
> I also managed to get bitten by a goddamn bat and had to get rabies shots. Gonna have my next set of shots on Thursday. Fun times. Only I can manage to get rabies (hopefully not actually get them) while the world is in a coronavirus pandemic.
> 
> -Green


	9. Eddard IV

It was a beautiful day for a wedding. Clouds gave way to sunlight early in the morning, and the clear sky gave no indication of changing back. It was almost as if the gods themselves blessed his marriage.  
His marriage to his brother's almost widow. 

Ned felt guilty over this whole thing. Being a king in the North, marrying lady Catelyn, being the glorious saviour of their sister, that was all Brandon, not him. He knew that Bran was rash and impatient, thanks to his bucketfull of wolfsblood, but he would have been a great leader and a good king nonetheless.  
With every passing second he felt more and more like an Usurper to his brother. 

His rational side knew it was not true, that Ned did his duty just as he was always supposed to, but he couldn't help but feel immense guilt over it. Mayhaps he could talk to Cat, after all she would be his wife after tonight, or Benjen after the war ended. His little brother had a talent for making everyone feel better. 

The door to his chambers swung open and Ned jumped to his sword in a heartbeat. But to his surprise it was not an assassin or the Targaryen army coming to kill him, but lord Tully's little heir, Edmure.

The nine year old boy was already dressed for the ceremony, with a deep blue doublet over a red shirt with a pattern of silver fish over it. He looked jovial as he skipped towards Ned.

"Hello lord Edmure, I didn't hear you knock" Ned said. It would do good for the boy to be reminded of the common courtesies, lest he take on bursting into people's rooms unannounced as a habit.

"I didn't, had to wait until your guards didn't watch so they I could sneak in." the little boy looked proud of himself, and although Ned should have been more stern or perhaps even angry, he couldn't help but smile. Little Edmure reminded him of Ben when he was younger.

"And to what do I owe your unannounced visit, little lord?" he asked.

"I came to threaten you!" the boy grinned. "Patrek said that brothers are supposed to threaten their sisters husbands so they behave. So listen! If you ever make Cat cry I will put stinky old fish in your bed."

To that Ned grinned as well. Oh to be so young and pure again. "I shall take your threats to the heart my lord. And I wow to you, she shall never shed a tear for me that was not a tear of joy."  
Seemingly satisfied, little Edmure sat behind the table in Ned's solar and helped himself to a lemoncake.

Ned joined him beside the table, but he chose a blueberry one instead. He debated for a little while if he should reprimand the boy for not asking if he could take the cake in the first place, but then he decided he would let it slip this time.

Face covered in cake crumbs Edmure spoke up: "Do not take it lightly either, just ask Uncle Brynden about the time me and Cat put fish in Littlefingers bed for making Lysa cry." he was grinning one second and frowning the next, like many young children, his emotions were still chaotic.

"What's the frown for, young man?" Ned shifted in his seat from worry. He finished eating his cake and dabbed a napkin at his mouth.

"I miss Petyr that's all. He went to the gods a few months ago. After he fought Bran."

Oh.

Ned didn't even know the boy was dead. With all the stress and chaos from the war he assumed that he was merely sent home in shame after the fight. He did not even think to ask if he died from the wounds.

Putting a somber look on his face, he said: "I'm sorry Edmure, I didn't know."

Edmure looked like he was about to say something when angry huffs interrupted them, coming from the still open door noone bothered to close. 

With a hint of fear in his eyes Edmure jumped from the chair. "That's my septa, I have to go!" and ran off before Ned could even say goodbye.

He chuckled to himself again and closed the door. This little intervention proved amusing and made him forget about his doubts.  
When the groom's men came to dress him he was in a good moon, thanks to Edmure and his antics. A little misbehaved for a boy his age but sweet and good natured. Exactly what Ned needed it would seem. 

They dressed him in a grey doublet with a ferocious direwolf stitched with silver thread on the front. Originally made for Brandon for his wedding it had to be taken in a little, for Ned was always a little more slender, and the war made him lose some of the weight as well. He did not even mind that it was a hand me down from his older brother, for it was never worn before and quite pretty. He wondered wether he should have it stored along with the cloak afterwards so that it could become a part of the wedding tradition of Starks to come. 

Under the doublet he wore a plain white shirt, without any embroidery or ruffles, for Ned preferred more simple but well made garments. He already wore black trousers before his entourage even came, with charcoal gray boots as well.   
With his wedding cloak in white, with a direwolf embroidery stitched in great detail over a scenery of weirwood leaves, Ned felt himself to be ready. The cloak was at least five hundred years old, used by all Starks on their wedding since the day of Rodrik the Fearless.

Ready to depart from his chambers, he stood up when lord Greatjon spoke: "Not so fast Ned, we have one more thing for you."

Ned arched an eyebrow but sat back down as lord Rickard brought in a chest. Well, more like a big wooden box. 

"We thought a king should have a crown." he grinned and opened the box. Inside, on a cushion of white wool stood a crown simmilar to the crowns of old Kings in the North he saw in the books. Beaten bronze with carved runes and nine black longswords rising from it. To his shock the swords were sharpened.

"And we have one for your betrothed as well. For a crowning ceremony." Howland said.

Ned smiled to himself as his men crowned him, and wondered how Cat's crown would look like. 

___________________

He stood between the statues of the Mother and Father in the Riverrun's sept. They decided to hold the wedding there because lady Lysa and his foster Father were marrying as well.  
His ceremony would follow both faiths and so it would be longer, mostly because the coronation took time as well, and so lady Lysa and Jon had their ceremony first. She looked a little unhappy about marrying lord Jon, and Ned made a mental note to himself to speak with her during the feast. He could imagine marrying a man old enough to be her father was not an easy thing to do and Ned wished to alleviate her fears if he could.

As the noise in the sept quieted down Ned knew his intended was coming.

She radiated beauty. The rainbow lights of the sept made it even more apparent. And when she smiled him his heart skipped a beat. 

She wore a deep blue dress with large cape sleeves. Blue beetle wings were sown onto the fabric in the pattern of fish, a little abstract but still clear to see. The whole gown was embroidered with silver and blue, with not a trace of red apart from her red hair. She had her hair pulled up in a net of the palest most shimmering metal he had ever seen and silver jewellery hung around her throat and wrists. 

If Lysa glowed in her pale blue but otherwise identical gown, Catelyn shined. 

He could not keep his eyes off her during the whole ceremony. 

Seven wows, seven blessings, seven promises. It was all painfully long, but worth it. The ceremonies in the North were much shorter and to the point, but he had to admit there was something beautiful about marrying in a building with rainbow light and songs.  
After he draped the cloak of white and gray over his wife's shoulders, the septon stood away and Ned assumed his place. 

It was time to crown his wife the queen, and Ned could not believe how right it felt. To hell with feeling inadequate compared to his brother when his wife smiles at him with happiness that was not fake. 

As lord Bolton brought the crown for his wife Ned got the first look at it just as she did. Unlike his it was kokoshnik shaped and made out of silver, or some other type of pale metal. It had little silver daggers rise from it, evoking his own crown, but more delicate and feminine. A true crown for a Winter's queen.

As Ned took it in his hands to place it on his wife's head he got a closer look, and to his surprise it was not daggers or swords but ice crystals. From distance it looked like a more womanly version of his own crown but upon a closer look it was more winter and less war.

He placed it upon Cat's head as people cheered. 

\---------------------

The feast was now well underway and Ned, even though he was more prone to sobriety found himself a little in his cups. Him and his wife danced and laughed as if a war didn't rage all around them, and Ned was truly happy for the first time since he found out all of his family had been reduced to rubble. 

He had briefly spoken to Lysa as well, while Cat danced with Edmure (although she more or less just picked him up and swung him around).  
She was sad about the match and the death of her best friend, but when Ned assured her that Jon would treat her well she seemed a little more confident. She told him the Blackfish offered to go with her to the Eyrie so that she would have guidance of someone close to her, and Ned felt relived for her. It would do her no good if she were to go to the Eyrie all alone, as Ned learned himself. At least he had Robert during his stay there. 

He had told her all he could about the Vale and it's people, while she peppered him with questions about the lords and ladies there, the different landmarks and mountain clans. She seemed rather excited about the prospect of seeing Ironoaks and forstering highborn children alongside her new husband as well. 

That's when the shouts for the Bedding came.   
He had half the mind to refuse when his wife turned to him and nodded with a reassuring smile. It was decided prior that Jon and Lysa would not have bedding ceremony, but it seems like Ned himself would not be spared. 

It was a rather strange experience if he were to be honest. About 20 young ladies from Riverlands and the Mormont girls from the North, oldest of which was of the age with Benjen. That gave him an idea, and although Ned found it kind of funny that he was, thinking about a potential marriage of his younger brother while a gaggle of girls undressed him for his own marriage bed he knew that a marriage would mean Benjen could not run off to the wall like a maniac, which was always a positive.

When he was finally deposited into the rooms he would share with Cat, his wife was already there herself, tucked under the covers of their bed and red as a beet.

A little embarrassed himself, he forced the last of the drunk guests out of the room and closing the door behind them and turned to his wife. 

Still red and covering herself with a bedsheet she smirked and whispered: "well this is an experience I never wish to repeat."

Chuckling himself he walked towards her and sat on his side of the bed: "Aye, I can't say I know what the fuss is all about."

She turned to him and spoke, as he took of the rogue sock the flock of girls missed: "Have you ever... You know?"

He tossed to sock aside: "Aye, once during that damn tourney. Can't say I'm all that experienced."

Blushing even more furiously and uncovering herself his wife said: "suppose we'll have to awkwardly stumble through it together..."

And they did.


	10. Eddard V

It was merely a day after the wedding that Ned was on the move again. Rheager sent an envoy under the banner of peace some time prior, asking to meet and negotiate instead of aimlessly kill one another. It was now a sennight later, and they were near what they agreed upon as the meeting place. A crossing on the Trident about half a day's ride north of Darry.  
Now that the Mad king was dead, his son was the king and he was much more open to not slaughtering random people for fun. They also delivered a personal letter to Ned, from Rhaegar himself, claiming that his sister had gone willingly, and was his queen alongside his first wife, the Princess Elia. 

Ned was not sure what to make of it. He had been suspicious of the letter and the whole situation ever since he got the word that Lya was missing. She had been outraged that the Prince would crown her and shame her and his wife in front of the whole kingdom. But then again she was not happy with Robert's constant whoring. But also she was not stupid enough to run away with a married man and shame them and herself even more. But then again she was fierce and learned how to wield a sword in secret, how could have 5 or so men overpower her and her guards. 

It was all so jumbled up and Eddard truly didn't know what to believe. If his sister went off willingly, then she was the indirect cause of his father's and brother's death. But if she didn't then the Pri- King Rhaegar was cruel and his sister was probably suffering a fate worse than death.  
Ned knew he had to get to the bottom of this. This Negotiation was an opportunity to set the North free and save his sister. The only problem was Ned himself.  
He prided himself to be a good observer and listener, even a good judge of character, but he lacked the social skills of his older brother and the political abilities of his father.  
Jon had given him a crash course, even through his grief, but Ned was still uncomfortable. The ammount of lying and such that was necessary for negotiations with courtly lords was really against his morals, and although he knew that just because Ned himself was a creature of honour and righteousness, didnt mean that the southern lords would play fair, he still found it hard to lie. 

The Tully banner ahead of him made him think of his wife. She had been so sweet and regal, a true lady to the core, yet Ned still not could shake the feeling that he was once again getting his brother's hand-me-downs. He knew that it was a very backwards way to think about anything, yet alone his wife, but he still could not shake the feeling of guilt. Ned himself was never meant to inherit Winterfell, was never meant to be a great warrior. He felt himself be so underprepared for his role.  
Everyone knew that they would fight for their right to remain independent from the south. Even Rhaegar himself understood that the sins of his father soured the relationship between the North and the South, but Ned was worried about the rest of the kingdoms..  
They have discussed it of course, and came to the conclusion that they would try and keep Riverlands and Vale separate of the Iron Throne, but should it come to it, they would at least try to get some allowances for all of them, should Targaryens not want to give them up.  
Politics were a delicate thing and so many lives were now on the line.

He had also made a plan with his lords regarding what to do should this be a trap. Ned knew there was a high risk of the Royal forces merely using this as a cover for an ambush. Should he fall they were to defend North and crown Benjen, in his 15 years old glory.  
He was safe in the North having about 1500 men at his command, because although North was wast and impenetrable from the south, the Ironborn had a nasty habit of invading whenever they wished.  
Come to think of it, the Western shore had very little population, but many potentials. He would have to speak with his lords about building castles and roads there. His father had left the North with a good sum of money in their coffers, and should they remain separate, as was the plan, they could use all the gold that was given to the Iron throne as taxes on restoration instead. 

He ushered his horse to the left, where his foster father was riding and spoke up. 

"Jon I know this may be a strange time to discuss gardening, but what food do you grow in the mountains?"

The old Arryn arched an eyebrow: "Excuse me?"

Ned looked at him: "I was thinking. North may be cold but the soil is fertile and there is a lot of it completly unused. The Stony shore aside, most of the Western shore is very sparse in population, but that can be changed if we made it desirable with farming."

"Thinking of economics again, are we Ned." his forter father chuckled. Lord Arryn always said Ned would be a good master of coin. Out of all of his siblings, he had the best head for sums and the more complicated sides of trade. It was actually him that convinced father to try and strike up a deal with the Free Cities a few years ago, after he had discovered that fur was extremly costly in northwestern Essos.  
Fur was abundant in the North, and the sheer ammount of money they were getting without even making a dent in the wild populations was downright funny.  
Ned wished to build upon this after the war ended as well, getting herds of the animal that the wildlings called Reindeer from the frozen shore and into the New Gift. 

His mother was raised with the mountain clans and she told him tales about the animals, which was what first sparked his interest.  
They were well adapted to North's harsh climate, did not require as much food as Cattle, had good meat and their pelts were soft and large.  
Jon interrupted his thoughs with a sigh: "Wheat mostly. Corn and root vegetables, although I doubt corn would work in the North. Leaf vegetables and fruit. Pumpkins and honey too. What were you thinking about?" 

Ned thought to himself for a while before answering : "Aye, cabbage and such could work well. And it lasts long. I was thinking hearty vegetables that can survive the occasional summer snow. Beets, kale, carrots and leafy vegetables. I also read about different field systems around the world and some of them seem to be better for the kind of weather we have up there. "

The amusement on Jon's face was readable. A memory from his first year in the Eyrie came to Ned's mind. Him and Robert didn't get along in the beginning, which made Ned spend a lot of his time in the library. One day during the morning meal Robert blurted out that he didn't see Ned during the day at all, so he must have snuck off to see a girl, to which lord Yohn Royce, who was also there at the time replied that he met him in the library. Lord Jon then chuckled and said "I suspect Ned wishes to read every book there is by the time he's a man."  
As a child it annoyed Ned that everyone though he wanted to be a maester, just because he liked to learn, but now with more retrospective he understood that most were meaning it well.  
"Care to enlighten me?" Jon raised his eyebrow at him.

Ned spoke up again: "Right now we use the two field rotation. Spring and early summer is for grain, late summer and autumn is for vegetables. The book I read suggested splitting it up by years instead. Spring for more hardy greens, early summer for cattle pastures, so that the soil gets fertilised, summer for grain and fruit, autumn for root vegetables. I calculated and it could make us triple the food we produce now without stripping the soil at all. Now imagine if we scaled it up to the whole North."

"You could almost rival the Reach in food export. Or at the very least Riverlands and Crownlands combined." Jon remarked.

"Exactly!" Ned said. He had really great plans for this field reformation. If the Rebellion ended in a few months, they could start this spring as well.

"I was also thinking about expanding the whale and crab fishing. We have about 6 vessels around Sea Dragon point and so far it's been going well." he elaborated.

Jon looked him with kindness of a father: "Your father started that a year or so ago, didn't he?" The worry in his voice made Ned think of how he constantly fussed over Ben.

"Aye.." he looked ahead.  
The tent the Royalist forces set up was now over the horizont. True to his promise, there were no signs of an army anywhere. Ned truly hoped this was not a trap.  
They had left their own army behind as well, setting up camp an equal distance from what their scouts said about the Targaryen army. Messengers were also posted and set to ride back to the camp if something goes wrong. 

Many of his lords chose to come with him, ignoring the risk. Amongst them were of course his foster father and his lord father in law. Lords Karstark, Manderly and Bolton rode alongside them, as well as some other northern lords who wished to be with their king. Riverlords and Valemen came too. Lords Estermont, Swann and Tarth would act in the interest of Stannis and Renly, since they were currently still besieged. They heard nothing from the silent sisters they had smuggle in food, but since their spies heard nothing from the enemy side either, they took it as a success.

Ned had hoped everything could be resolved peacefully. He was tired of fighting. If this meeting went well, his homeland could be free, and all of them could heal.

The tent was now less then a hundred feet away and Ned could see some of the men Rhaegar chose to bring. He could spot the seahorse of Velaryons, tower of Hightowers, sun of Martells and other sigils of the royalist forces. What surprised him however, was that alongside the black and red of Targaryens flew white and grey of his own house. Targaryen and Stark banners raised at an equal height. His lords must have noticed too, because he could hear whispers at the back, that sounded suspiciously confused.  
If Rhaegar recognised him as equal to himself, then maybe he could be reasoned with.   
Ned certainly hoped so.


End file.
